Sermons from Psychedelia

Hallucinations and Tales of Reason

Welcome to Sermons From Psychedelia - a blog for sourcing the mind and mapping new dimensions beyond the imaginary. Dream sequences, hallucinations, and the insight they bring will begin to unfold towards a colorfully fractal hierophany.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

I'm currently writing my first novel (a rather odd undertaking, but turning out to be wildy enlightening), a fictional assortment of ten years travelling the world under bizarre influences. This is an excerpt from Capter one in its first draft. I'm on chapter three at the moment and just getting through the first year. The story is told from a random mixture of experiences and encounters. Writing a book is just a matter of writing, not much else behind it...where it leads is anybody's guess. For the time being my only objective is to be able to say that I have written it. Enjoy!

Part 1 - Chapter 1 (excerpt):

My name is Ray Jaye, I’m a hopeless wanderer in search of a Lost America and this is my story of a liquid filled dream twenty five years running. It was 1986, I think, and it must have been fall time because I was freezing that morning when I woke up cramped in the backseat of my Oldsmobile. These were the waning days of of a soon to be lost American freedom. By now most had sold out to the new ideal of skintight foreign synthetics, bubbly French water, and high interest rate mortgages made possible by the Savings & Loans banks. Freedom had faded into the past like an old pair of desert shoes forgotten in the back of the closet by this point. But, it was still held onto by the bold few who dared speak of such archaic ideas. George HW Bush was about to be officially elected for the first time and his war on drugs was kicking into high gear. I was a lone fighter behind enemy lines, serving as an anonymous fifth column in the struggle for the mere right to choose my own method of inebriation. It was a vain struggle, but a necessary illusion to make it worthwhile for a twenty year old in search of something real.

The day before, I remember, was warm like summer but with longer shadows and an earthy nuance that reminded me I didn’t have a coat. Whenever I remember I don’t have a coat it means winter is near and I must run south, but I was heading north this time in quite a disoriented fashion. I had just woken up from a year long trip that I only faintly remembered by the stale whiff that lingered from my duffle bag whenever I unzipped it to look in vain for a left-over sandwhich or maybe some change that had fallen out of my pants. I knew I was waking up by the sudden rush of senses that had not been present since leaving my hometown behind me fourteen months earlier. I was remembering, feeling temperature and hunger, smelling, and after what happened next, I was seeing also. Taste had yet to manifest itself because I was out of smokes, nearly broke, and only had a bottle of milky tap water that I filled up two days before somewhere around Atlanta.

No sooner did I awake then another trip was about to begin in a rusty 1971 two-door Pontiac Ventura. It was sky blue with patches of body filler and a caved in passenger door. It had Ohio tags, but I have never been to Ohio. I was sitting outside a truckstop on Interstate 77 somewhere around Rock Hill, South Carolina when I received this gift. My other car had shit the bed sometime just before this and I didn’t have the money to fix it. I was on my second day at this miserable watering hole when out of nowhere appeared a stange petite man with brill creamed black hair parted painfully to one side and a flaking thick mustache that was unkept with straggler hairs hanging over his lip. He was in his fourties and talked like a televangelist who was going through hard times.

He put out his hand, calling himself Rick Johnson. His accent wasn’t southern, more midwestern with a hint of dry gin lingering in the background like a coverup of something far darker than I cared to consider that morning. I remember the name ringing on and on in my head like an unconvincing insurance salesman’s pitch repeated from door to door. “I see you haven’t been able to get your car started this morning. Today is your lucky day son, I want to give you a hand”, he said ever so politely. I was in no position to tell him to fuck off, after all that pastorly part in his hair was surely one of integrity and this man could be my ticket out of here. So, I heard him out. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse under the circumstances, and he did so in such an openhearted manner that I quickly jumped on the proposal regardless that his shoes were scuffed and torn as though he had leaped over a fence and snagged them while running from a bank robbery. He offered me his car as an even exchange for mine. His was running, mine wasn’t. “Who was I to refuse, after all, that brill cream is so shiny and well thought out?”, I thought to myself. I was mesmerized by his dandruffy appearance but knowing full well this was a stinky can of worms just waiting to be opened. “Okay, fine”, I said, “but I’ll have you know that the timing chain is gone and it’ll cost a couple hundred bucks to fix it”. “No problem, I know a good mechanic near here who owes me a favor and I’ll get it up and running in no time”, was his confident response.

We signed over the paperwork with some frightening legal jargon that made no sense while bent over the hood of a car in a South Carolina truckstop. Sure, whatever, at least I had the keys to a running vehicle regardless of it being highly suspicious or not. We shoke hands and I quickly transferred my belongings from my other car to the new one. He had nothing to remove from his car. Blue, my stout little red nose pit bull, took his rightful position in the passenger seat. I turned the key and we were off once again.

It wasn’t until we arrived to the Roanoke Valley in Western Virginia later that day that I realized this was going to be a long ride north. I had stopped for gas about three hours out of Rock Hill when the baldheaded attendant advised me I had no brake lights. After putting three gallons of gas in the car I was broke so I couldn’t change the bulbs. I could only hope those three gallons would get me to Lynchburg by nightfall. I had a friend there who might be able to give me a hand or at least buy a few hits of acid for gas money. Maine was still well over a thousand miles ahead and the only means I had was half a vile of liquid LSD to get me there. It was after five o’clock when I pulled out of the truckstop. I had fifty three cents in my pocket, a hungry dog, an empty belly and an urge to give up right then and there. But, I pulled onto the highway and stepped on the gas. I couldn’t have gone more than two miles when there was a sudden vibration in the steering wheel and then a loud blast that sounded like an evening stroll through Harlem I experienced a year before. I pulled the car over to the side to inspect the damage, it turned out to be a flat tire of course, beyond repair. Upon opening the trunk I then discovered my luck was surely left back in Biloxi with that cute little belle who offered me a place to stay through the winter. Of course, I was restless and had to get moving so I didn’t accept her offer. Now I was thinking twice about turning back, it wasn’t to late to make up for my walking out three days before and besides, the car I was in had no spare tire. I was screwed halfway between here and there.

Here I was with a suspicous looking car that wasn’t mine, a flat tire, no money, and a hungry dog who was pawing at what looked to be a freshly flattened possum on the side of the road. It was getting dark quickly and I needed to get off the highway to avoid any run-ins with the law. Did I mention that my driver’s license was suspended and a warrant issued for my arrest in Florida a month before? Either way, that was the least of my worries, I needed to get under cover soon. So, I jumped back in and proceeded to hobble my way to the next exit in hopes of finding some other solution. Little did I know what would await me a mile up the road.

There was no filling station, no truck stops, and no telephones at the exit I took – just one lone house sitting off the road with a dirt driveway leading up to it. The house was of typical southern style, unpainted clapboards, a falling porch and a tire swing hanging from a tree to the left side. Out front there were five cars and a primered Chevy 4x4 with a huge motor winch sitting over the hood. I was imagining Ned Beaty’s horror in Deliverence. I rolled the car into the driveway, cautious of who might inhabit this place. As soon as I pulled in a pack of unkept dogs surrounded the car and my little Blue was going wild. It turns out, Blue was the one who would save my day. The front screen door flew open and a tall lanky fellow in his thirties with greasy blonde hair and soiled jeans stepped out screaming at the dogs. They must know better than to ignore him because they quickly withdrew and went off to doing whatever they were doing before my arrival. He approached the car before I had a chance to get out. He looked at me with a supicious eye from under a rebel flag bandana he had tied around his forehead and my first thought was to turn around and run like hell. However, the rim was bent so badly I was in no position to do anything of the sort. Luckily, I had a pit bull and a pair of jeans myself so I didn’t appear to menacing and in hindsight, I fit right in. I rolled the window down and introduced myself with a vain attempt at a southern accent. His name was “Eunace”, he said, with a nasal sort of one syllable drawl that made me want to crack a joke. But this wasn’t the time for southern jokes so I stepped out of the car and put my hand out to shake his. He stared for a moment at my hand and then slowly put his forward. “Today is your lucky day”, he said. I stopped dead in my tracks and thought how bizarre it was to have heard this twice in the same day while at once having second thoughts about what luck really means in the first place. “I see ya gotcha a flat tire there”, he said while peering over the side of the car. “For twenty dollars I can put ya a new on and have ya on yer way in no time”. My luck had once again been taken away – he surely wouldn’t accept a few hits of LSD in place of money, yet I had nothing else to offer him. “Well, ya, I do have a flat. But, I don’t have any money I’m afraid. Is there any other way I can pay you?” He looked at the car, stuck his head in the passenger window and said, “well, them bucket seats are in pretty good shape and they’ll fit nice in the Nova I’m rebuilding”. I was suddenly wondering how the hell I was going to drive with no seats even if I had repaired the tire. “Sounds good to me, they’re yours”, I said without pausing to reconsider the implications.

It was already night time when I began unbolting the seats and Eunace was off trying to rig a rim with an old used tire he had stored in the garage. It turns out the Nova and Ventura are identical cars and the rim bolted up easily. The tire wasn’t in the best shape but it looked like it might get me as far as Maine if I drive easy on it. He continued to mount the new wheel and I pulled out the remaining passenger seat, still wondering how on earth I was going to drive this car with two big empty holes in the cabin. He didn’t seem to care. When I finally unfastened the last seat and struggled to get it out, a small baggy fell on the ground beside the car. I dropped the seat to inspect the little bag further. It looked all to familiar and I raised an eyebrow as I picked it up from the driveway. To my delight it held a handful of pungent green buds! Surely the greasy televangelist wouldn’t have forgot this, he didn’t look like the type. I began to wonder if the car was stolen but quickly changed my thoughts to avoid the paranoia that would follow. Eunace turned around and smiled when he saw what was in my hand. “Hell boy! Why didn’t you say you had some weed? We could have saved you all that work pulling out them seats.” I wondered if it was worth giving up in return for my seats. After all, they were already out of the car and I didn’t have any will to put them back in now. I made a new offer. “You can keep the seats”, I said, looking around the yard, “in exchange for that old plastic lawn chair and twenty bucks”. With this money I could get some gas, a meal for Blue and I, and maybe even a pack of smokes to ease the tension of this trip. The chair, well, I needed something to sit on while I drove.

He only had seventeen dollars, I accepted and shook his hand in gratitude. It was late already and I couldn’t get on the road without brake lights so I asked him if it was okay to camp out in his driveway until morning, explaining the light problems I had. I knew this way too that the police wouldn’t bother me, the last thing I needed at the moment. He went to the garage and came back with two bulbs and changed them for me, the lights still didn’t work – it was a wiring problem and this couldn’t be fixed easily so he agreed to let me spend the night. It was getting chilly so I pulled out my sleeping bag and began to prepare my bed in the remaining back seat of the car. Eunace stored his new seats in the garage, took his bag of weed and headed inside, leaving me there with Blue wrapped up in the back seat. I was starving and tempted to knock on his door for one more favor, but I had already asked for to much so I tried to hold on. Fortunately, as it had been all day, today was my lucky day.

Eunace came out with a bowl of canned Dinty Moore beef stew, he didn’t bother to heat it. He just handed it to me without saying anything and leaned against my car taking a long haul off the joint he had rolled from the surprise baggy that fell out of the passenger seat. “Boy, this sure is some sweet weed my friend, want some?” I left the stew for a moment and took a couple of hits. It seemed more appealing at that moment than even food. Suddenly all my troubles seemed so far away, my eyelids grew heavier, and I remembered why I was on this journey - to find out life from the bottom of the barrell. We exchanged a few pleasantries, I thanked him once again and then continued with my stew while Blue was sitting in the car looking at me with those puppy dog eyes of “please leave some for me”. I dropped the spoon and like always, gave him half. Eunace walked off towards the house screaming at the dogs to go lay down and shut the door behind him. I never saw him after that.

The next morning I loaded the lawn chair into the car only to discover it was to high, so I busted the legs off and then it was to low. After fidgeting with my duffle bag I managed to position it at a sufficient height to be able to drive, albeit wobbling and sliding but still high enough so as not to draw attention. I figure once I was on the road I wouldn’t be swaying and shaking so it should hold in place. What a sorry sight to see…a seatless car with no brake lights, a caved in passenger door and primer patches scattered over the rusting body. Oh well, I was on my way once again, ready to leave the south in my wake and the rising sun on my back. But no, I still had to stop in Lynchburg to dump some acid before continuing north. I stopped for ten dollars in gas a short ways up Interstate 77, bought some filling snacks, walked the dog, and we were off to Lynchburg.

That morning everything was going smoothly, the car was runnning good, it was a warm sunny morning, our bellies were full and my destination was getting closer with every mile marker passed. I only wished I had a radio in the car to break up the silence and rumble of the rusted exhaust pipe. Finally, I saw the first sign indicating Lynchburg was ahead – only 67 miles to go! I stepped on the pedal a bit more and in under an hour I was pulling off the highway in search of my friend Charlie’s house.

Charlie lived off his parents back then. He did so under one condition, that he attend a christian university. He was accepted the year before to attend Liberty University, the home of Jerry Falwell’s evangelist empire and was studying psychology. Of all majors at a christian university, psychology seemed the most comical. But there he was, living it up at his parents expense and mocking the whole christian gig as has always been his style. He would later be expelled for allegedly distributing high grade LSD at campus parties, I had only a little to do with that of course. Anyway, today would be the first time I see Charlie since I took off hitchiking during our junior year in high school. Not much had changed for either of us and we always stayed in touch even though our paths had not crossed since then. Today that was all about to change. I had been four days since dropping a huge dose after leaving Biloxi and now that I was meeting up with Charlie, it was time for another trip. Only this time with him and some rather awkward college kids who had no idea what they were in for upon my sky blue arrival.
...

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Final Entry: Renewing The Pineal Gland
Before beginning to outline means to ahcieving a genuine spiritual existence I’d like to give my readers, you, a bit of background about myself. I come from two predominant influences, the same two that many of you may part from. First, being from the west I was brought up in the belief system of Christianity and later the logic of science as a means of understanding life. The two are often inseparable as I mentioned in part one of this series.

I can’t deny these influences and the models and vocabulary I have established are not easily over-ridden when searching out the truth of a higher state of consciousness. I have never been fully capable of immersing myself in other systems and thus most of my descrptive qualities are remnants of what I was fed from day one. Thus, on the many occasions that I have participated in exotic rituals, such as peyote and ayahuasca ceremonies, I have found the very same occurances as those found in the science classroom and the church. My experiences in these groups has seen that the participants often go through the procedures, the act, and believe simply by the suggestion from what the others around them say they should experience. I have seen many people indulge in these ceremonies with the notion that the ceremony itself is the act of transcendence – identical in nature to what happens in a small town christian church. Meanwhile, they get all caught up in the symbolism and lithurgical practices stipulated by the ceremonial ritual.

I don’t deny that a potential in these rituals exists (it also exists in the christian church at times) but I have seen them exploited over and over again to no real avail with those who follow them. In addition, I have often noticed how these very rituals are pulled from their initial tribal context and replanted in a western culture who has little relation to them (much the same way as Christianity has been mutated to appeal to our own cultural appearance). Thus, they are usually modified in some manner that attempts to combine familiar aspects with the supposed ancient rites and by doing this they lose the essence of the entire objective – transcendence and an interdimensional communication. This is not to say that I am an open supporter of Tanscendental Tourism for the sake of “tripping” on one’s own with no support or structure but to participate in these tribal ceremonies or to go to church is no more an answer than the psychonaut’s approach in many cases.

What needs to be clear when embarking on a spiritual journey is the individual nature of this journey. We may all be connected, but the journey is taken alone in order to meet up with the universal on the other side. So, my first suggestion to rehabilitating the spirit is to know one’s self, to seriously ponder the why’s and how’s from within – not those stipulated by a modern day shaman, a Catholic priest, or the latest literature on psychedelic tendencies. All of them can give a basic structure to the journey, or a map if you will, but the journey still must be undertaken by the individual. This being said, I will try to stay away from promoting these influences while highlighting the aspects of them which can be of true benefit for those who wish to fully understand what higher consciousness can mean.

Next on the list of essentials to regaining our inner spirit is to know and care for one’s body, a well tuned vehicle is extremely important for innerspace travelling. This begins with nutrition and it is probably the mos dificult of all the steps to achieve given our dependence on outside food sources which are altered beyond imagination in many cases. Eliminating unnecessary buildup ups of toxins and in this case the accumulation of calcified deposits within the body is part of this process. Flouride can easily be removed from our water sources through reverse osmosis filtration systems. It can also be reduced by eliminating our intake of pharmaceutical prescription drugs, non-flouride containing toothpastes, and living in a community that is free of smog and air pollution. A fibre diet is another means of attacking these buildups, not to mention complete nutrition through quality food sources – preferably homegrown organic produce.

Meditation is another good source for rehabilitating a clogged pineal gland. Learned meditation techinques that use vibrational chants such as the Hindu Shakti songs serve to physically awaken the soul. I have come to see these techniques as a form of ultrasonic decalcifiers – much in the way the dentist uses an ultrasonic tool to loosen calcified deposits on our teeth. Through this training in vibrational meditation we are not only manifesting the spirit through a deep awareness but also through a physical process that sends vibrational frequencies through our bodies, thus breaking up accumulations of unwanted calcification and freeing the portal to the Other.

Finally, there are psychedelics. Most notably DMT, the so called spirit molecule. Through an educated and conscious application of DMT we can immediately override these calcified based dysfunctions and open the soul’s portal to direct contact with higher dimensions. The transition experienced through DMT is often times too sudden and intense for those who are not thoroughly prepared so I can’t stress enough the importance of pursuing this avenue through proper preparation and guidance from those who are experienced in the field. This is not a recreational psychedelic by any stretch of the imagination and should be handled in a proper setting and most importantly a proper mindset. Today, there are many groups who can assist in this technique. For those like myself who’s souls have been severely blocked or altered, DMT may be the only immediate prescription to achieve the Other. Once this other reality has been discovered it is much easier to obtain and recognize later on. Meditation becomes much more effective as do the means to providing the other necessary combatitive measures like nutrition. However, the DMT experience is severe and intense so it is essential to be well prepared for such a mystical enlightenment.

There is a lot of chatter these days about the 2012 doomsday just around the corner. Most of this nothing but sensationalism and fear tactics being applied to justify other motives for control. However, what can be accurately taken from the Mayan traditions is the pending transition from a spirtiuality which centers on materialism, greed, and emnity towards one that is based on peace and cooperation with our physical world. It is important to undestand that this transition will be disputed by the ruling oligarchical factions of the world, after all they are quite happy with their current control of the state of our consciousness. I am of the opinion that this transition will not require a violent revolution but will happen through awareness and a disconnection to those ruling interests. They will fade simply through our refusal to recognize their reality as the only reality. So, to this end you could posit that the end of the world is near – the end of the destructive world at least.

Through these ancient prophecies you can see this transition taking place. It is a spiritual transition that can go unnoticed if you are not connected to it. Over the last several years there has been an awakening of our consciousness and much of this comes from a renewed interest in transcendentalism and most notably through a rekindled interest in psychedelics. Secret ceremonial practises that were guarded from the outside world are now beginning to reach us all – a prime example being the ceremonial use of Ayahuasca taking place around the world. These peoples who have stayed in close contact with the Other feel the need to share their insight with the world in order to facilitate the pending spiritual reawakening. It is these very tribes who probably hold the key to a peaceful transition and knowing this they have opened their doors to the outside world where before they would not have done so.

This transtion can be witnessed on so many levels and the current chaos we see in the world is truly a manifestation of the struggle to keep it from happening by the powers that be. It is, however, within reach of each and every one of us to find the strength and insight to be able to endure these pending hard times. This is precisely where a healthy pineal gland will come into play – it is the portal to open the way for our transcendence into a higher, better, and peaceful coexistence during our physical period here on earth. This peace is essential if we are to carry that positive vibrational presence into the afterlife and open our souls to the eternity that awaits us on the other side.
It is time to open our third eyes and awake to a brand new day.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

In part two of this series I’ll explain in more detail how the pineal gland effects our overall health and more importantly for the sake of this discussion – our spiritual awareness. We now know what the pineal gland does on a basic level, but there is a world of investigation pending into the repercussions of these functions.

Going back for a moment to the gland’s production of Melatonin and potentially it’s similar analogue DMT, we know that it depends a great deal on photoperiodic influences (light to dark), electromagnetic fields, and extremely low frequencies (ELF’s). Beginning with the photoperiodic influence, it has been determined that the pineal gland secretes melatonin when light intensity is reduced to a minimum level, above this level it stops producing entirely and can interrupt our circadian rythyms (day-night and seasonal alterations). The effects of light and EMF’s is outlined in what is known as the Melatonin Hypothesis, whereupon the influences of melatonin production may be related to sexual reproduction, early onset of puberty, and possibly even breast cancer in women. Also, Melatonin was discovered in 2002 to be a powerful antioxidant which hunts down free radicals and serves as an anti-cancer hormone through its work in neuroreceptor points. It has also been seen to influence depression in many individuals among still more functions. It comes as no surprise that melatonin production from the pineal is altered by our bombardment of these external influences. In the modern age we are entwined in light and artificial electromagnetic forces, all of which can be detrimental to the pineal’s basic functions – by accident or design is for anyone to ask.

It is also known, and it’s one of the key points of this discussion, that the pineal gland becomes calcified with age. It stops growing at about two years old but continues to gradually gain mass through life and then begins to calcify as our bodies mature. This is a natural occuring process and could theoretically give some insight as to our fundamental lack of spiritual outwardness when we grow older. Children are most often more spiritually inclined and connected than are seasoned adults in the western world, regardless of their desire to express themselves as such. With age we tend to settle in, stop thinking and wondering – our curiousity abates. At least until we are forced to overcome these disabled systems in extremely stressful moments such as when dying or near death. It is interesting to point out that as the pineal assumed a more "spiritual" role in our evolution in place of a simple third eye (like lizards whose pineal contain a lens, cornea, and retina) to regulate light and dark functions, it needs the greater protection from the environment afforded by such deep placement in the skull. Even more curious than this deep location is the pineal’s proximity to the sensory and emotional centers of the brain. Through its normal function and possible distribution of DMT the pineal could be seen as perfectly located to communicate efficiently with these centers. However, what happens when the gland becomes over calcified? Do we lose emotional and sensory capabilities? Is our intelligence quotient lowered? Is our potential to connect with “God” hindered or blocked?

The calcification process may hold the answers to these questions, as the pineal gland becomes impenetrable to the adrenaline and noradrenaline neurotransmitters surrounding the gland which allow seratonin to synthesise into melatonin, and as is suggested by Dr. Strassman, to synthesize DMT also. The pineal gland posesses all of the necessary building blocks to produce DMT. The unique enzymes that are needed to convert seratonin and melatonin or tryptamine into pscyhedelic substances are abundantly available within the gland. So, in theory, if these processes were blocked from normal functioning they could prohibit the molecular spirit vehicle from forming and thus shutting our souls off from the higher dimensions of existence. The defense system of the pineal is already impressive and to produce psychedelic quantities of DMT it would need quite a shock or stimulation – such as those produced under extreme stress, child birth, deep meditation and chanting, near death experiences, and death itself.

Take into account how calcification is rock hard and impermeable to absorption and it could be possible that excessive calcification blocks our spirit in a very physical manner from communication with those higher dimensions of reality. Think about the lime deposits that form around a dripping water tap. They are nearly impossible to remove, hard as rock, and will eventually block the tap’s spout - prohibiting water from flowing out. Lime is calcification and it is the basic material that forms within the pineal, often times excessively.

What draws my attention to the calcification of the pineal gland is the influence that flouride has in the process. The pineal is not really part of the brain mass, instead it forms in fetuses from tissue in the mouth region and then migrates to its resting point in the center of the brain. It’s final tissue substance is closely related to the eye’s. Coincidentally, the highest concetration of flouride in the human body is precisely in the pineal gland. Flouride quickly calcifies and this accelerates the natural process causing increased levels of calcification. My primary question in presenting this essay is wether or not it is known that calcification of the pineal gland can cause certain communicative disruptions with the functions of this gland. That is, does someone know that they are blocking off our potential to become enlightened and connected as one with God or the Logos?

Let’s look at flouride and where it is found. Flouride quickly calcifies into a solid and it is most concentrated in the pineal gland, this we know. Also, most municipal water supplies are fortified with Flouride, supposedly as a manner of ensuring healthy teeth in our children. It is also produced from coal burning and can become airborne and breathed into our bodies (it has been reported to influence osteoschlerosis – skeletal flourosis, as a result of high levels of coal borne flouride intake). Still more interesting, it is also the base element in many medications including most anti-depressants, antihistamines, psychotropics, antiacids, anti anxiety, appetite supressants, arthritis medications, antibiotics, and a whole host of other medicines. Take note that it is employed in so many “anti” drugs…anti-spirit as well perhaps? This anti-aspect shows that is used to block – like the runny tap with lime deposits!

There is no shortage of flouride in our bodies, millions upon millions of people around the world can be found taking these drugs on a daily basis and breathing excessive amounts of coal originated flouride in the air. Not to mention more flouride in our supplemented water! What are the effects of flouride besides the supposed benefit to our teeth? Little is known about the effects of this consumption, less so relating to the pineal gland.

There are international studies that have shown that flourinated water supplies reduce the IQ in children. In China research was conducted on the children of two nearby villages with similar demographics and family orientations. One of these villages had flouride in the water, the other didn’t. The intelligence level of the flourinated children was determined to be significantly lower than the children from the village without flouride. Other studies have produced similar concerns, yet in the US there is very little interest in looking further into this problem. The establishment has determined it fit for consumption and apparently there is no need to waste money on useless research. Or does someone know something we don’t and have a reason to keep us consuming it?

As I mentioned, there is no available scientific work that focuses on the effects of Flouride in the pineal gland. If this gland potentially influences our emotional and sensory areas of the brain, then by default it would also influence our thoughts and intelligence capabilities. Perhaps thoughts actually originate in the pineal itself and are then distributed to the brain. After all, as René Descartes pointed out in his own work many years ago, thoughts only come one at a time and thoughts are precisely how the divine consciousness manifests itself through us. There is no stereo effect in thoughts as might possibly happen in a paired organ like the brain or the eyes. The pineal is a single entity and thus it quite possibly produces one thought at a time for distribution through the cerebrospinal fluid which then feeds them to the brain to manifest themselves outwardly.

If this thought and assimilation process is interrupted as a result of calcification then we have a serious issue on our hands. If flouride is also the principal inhibitor of the pineal gland’s spiritual functions then we have a double whamy! To suggest this would mean that we could estimably be condemned to our physical existence without a molecular vehicle to transport us to the afterlife or give us spiritual insight and exaltation in our current lives. We could virtually be prisoners of the soul made possible through a conecpt as simple as a clogged faucet.

There is no shortage of conspiracies in the world, nor has there ever been. There has always been an objective to control the minds and spirits of the masses to benefit the few – look at Hitler, the Romans, the current American mass consumption society, and countless other examples in history. Let’s consider for a moment that all of the most depriving evil conspiracy theories are true – if this were the case then those who commit the conspiracy could very well harness vast amounts of hidden knowledge, both esoteric and scientific. If this were the case, much of our reality would be just an illusion fed to us by these very conspirators. They could be hiding untold knlowedge to solve our energy problems by plugging into the vast enrgy fields that encirlce our planet and the universe for that matter. They could also be hiding the causes and cures for untold sickness and disease. If they held the keys to this sort of wisdom then they could also hold the keys to the afterlife, our connection with our eternal cosmic existence. By polarizing and simplifying spirituality into purely manmade concepts such as our western Christianity, they would be effectively leading us on wild goose chases. At the same time they would undermine and suppress to no end the viable alternatives that are afforded in many other cultures, notably shamanic influences and mystic practises of enlightenment. This would leave us with no where to turn but towards the pseudo idolised spirituality that we have come to know through so many generations.

If this were all true then why wouldn’t they use a simple technique of blocking the spirit’s molecular vehicle and in essence jam our antenna to communicate directly with all of this knowledge ourselves? Calcification of the pineal gland, if it is indeed the spirit gland that produces the so called spirit molecule (DMT is the assumption), would be an easy and convenient method of imprisoning us in the three dimensional illusion with no means of escaping, ultimately cutting off our existence on all planes or dimensions. The earth under this light would be one huge calcified bottle filled with screaming souls dying to be released. Imagine the energy that these in the know could utilize to their benefit by having billions of souls bottled up in a prison? This energy could well be the food they greedily need to satisfy their hunger for eternal growth and a monopoly of the universe. Of course I could be wrong and this is all just a head scratching coincidence. Either way, we are all crying out to find that Other and most of us perish without fully knowing it beforehand.

Most of us do not find a genuine answer in religion and the urge to reconnect has been gradually building up steam over the past century or so, you can only bottle up the souls for so long until the glass bursts. We know the Other is there, but we struggle to grasp it. There is always a block – that is until we can learn to reactivate or simulate the pineal gland’s spiritual capabilities.

Later this week part three of this series will discuss the techniques we can all use to achieve that mystical enlightenment, that revolution of the spirit that is just around the corner.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

These news items are related to research projects taking place at NYU and John Hopkins University where pscilocybin is being tested as a viable treatment for several depression and anxiety syndromes. So far the results from both are highly positive but you can be sure the propoganda machine will kick into gear should these projects begin to get more coverage. The greatest obstacle to continuing research into these alternative treatments is obviously the public's negative view of the substances being employed. CNN on PsychedelicsNY Times - Hallucinogens Have Doctors Tuning In AgainChicago Sun Times - Hallucinogens help cancer patients

Monday, May 3, 2010

For many years I have considered the basis for spirituality as an essential component to our most basic biological functions. Although I sensed much of this, quite frankly, I needed a better model to be able to put it into perspective. Things didn’t quite fit together until I stumbled on the pineal gland a couple of years ago. This followed with research into work that had been undertaken on this gland by numerous professional disciplines. Following is a theory on how calcification of the pineal gland could affect our ability to fully connect with higher dimensions or enlightened spirituality if you will.

Let’s begin by looking at how the religious experience in the west and probably most parts of the world has been relegated to ritual symbolism as a means of connecting with the Other or God. Most of what we encounter to be a spiritual experience is only a symbolic gesture of an experience we are told took place between those before us while the actual experience escapes us. As a result we are taught that mere faith and the following of certain rituals is the spiritual experience – this is enough apparently to constitute a genuine connection to the divine. However, from my own upbringing in these very relgions who hold the key to the divine, I have found there to be little of this personal connection taking place. At best there is a group psychosis which evolves amongst adepts that can be loosely translated as a spiritual experience. But this type of experience is often times dependent on the group following the group in order for it to manifest itself – ie speaking in tongues and other charismatic practices. The trance that occurs is most often the direct result of nothing but a suggestion to people who are so conditioned to accept this suggestion. I don’t wish to include all religious experiences in this definition as I am sure that there are moments when some of these groups do experience the divine but translate it into thoroughly misleading concepts such as the evolved state of Christianity. In this purely spiritual context I have no issue with Christianity, it is it’s dogmatic adherence that tends to take away exclude others from this experience that worries me.

Indeed, often times, in the last century our spiritual side has come to be viewed as nothing but the unnecessary creation of the imagination, with no scientific explanation and therefore no validity in a logical and tangible world. Most of those who become nonbelievers or atheists are parting from the only obvious alternative – Christianity and monotheism in general. Due to this bi-polar schematic of spirtuality vs. non-spirituality it has often come down to being either a Christian or an atheist with no room for other alternatives. This deduced view of life serves only to limit our full potential as sentient beings and it also makes for easy control of the masses by dictating the discourse coming from each side. Both Christianity and science are based on specific models or guidelines which by definition confine themselves to a limited dimension of reality. These conscience limiting models are easily controlled by the powers that be, while obviously forcing us farther and farther away from our genuine consciousness. Both of them develop and depend heavily on specific stereotypes of reality.

When you begin to throw alternative concepts into the mix the control is suddenly not as easy to maintain as people begin to think for themselves, come to their own conclusions and ultimately change the rules should they see fit. This is very dangerous for the structure of our modern society and both of these seemingly contradictory belief systems. We are only allowed a left and right, good and evil, black and white, god or no god paradigm – again control is facilitated by fomenting this simple model and there is a great deal of energy put into managing this paradigm and expelling alternatives.

It is also worth noting that during the last century or so much of humanity has also begun to search within themselves for a new link to the divine. Some would say we are awakening from a five thousand year old slumber, a manipulated illusion and spiritual imprisonment by the forces of religion and science. As a result we have begun to search backwards to find out where that connection to the divine was lost. This has brought about the interest in esoteric knowledge, spiritualities of the ancients, the psychedelic revolution, alternative approaches to scientific disciplines and the like. As we have begun to journey back to a genuine personal connection with the divine there has been a growing attempt to suppress this reconnection on behalf of the two prevailing paradigms – religion and science. Both go out of their way to dispell any alternative which claims to offer a personal relationship with the divine. To what extent they may go to in order to keep us away from our ultimate divine potential is the basis of this series of essays on the calcification of the pineal gland.

It is important to keep in mind that the following essays are assumptions in which to begin to make an argument for a conscious and deliberate plan to limit our communicative abilities with the divine – a conspiracy of the most sinister sort. This work is not a conclusion but speculation based on the sum of accumulating various research which leads me to question the possibility of a concerted effort to block our own “Godlike” potential as true sentient beings. This assumption begins with the pineal gland.

For those of you who do not know the pineal gland, it is a is a small endocrine gland that is located near the center of the brain, between the two hemispheres and outside of the brain/blood barrier. It is shaped like a tiny pine cone (hence its name). Until recently this gland was considered to be a vestige of a more primitve brain structure and apparently served no particular purpose. However, research into the pineal gland over the years has revealed it to be a central organ that dictates many other functions within us. It’s primary fuunction is to produce an amino acid called tryptophan which converts to seratonin and melatonin for distribution throughout the central nervous system. Melatonin is a hormone that affects the modulation of wake/sleep patterns and photoperiodic functions (seasonal) functions and recently has been identified as a regulator of other hormones as well. It is light sensitive and these signals communicate to the gland through responses sent from the retina. Melatonin also influences aging, the balance of our immune system, sexual reproduction functions, and our sense of direction among others. The pineal gland is also known to be sensitve to electromagnetic energy and the production of melatonin is directly related to the different stimuli provided by this energy. Researchers have found magnetites near the gland which are speculated to be the residual of a homing potential to geomagnetic directional cues (similar to those of Pigeons and whales). The dysfunction of this gland has shown to adversely effect each of the mentioned functions and research continues in many other areas.

The pineal gland has also played a significant role in metaphysics throughout history. In the 17th century the french philosopher, physicist René Descartes who centered much of his work on the pineal gland called it the “seat of the soul”. Earlier still, Hindu traditions have referred to it as the “third eye” where you can see it depicted as an eye on the forehead in many artist renditions of the god Shiva. In Hinduism, the pineal gland is also related to the sixth chakra or Sahasrara chakra which symbolizes detachment from illusion; an essential element in obtaining higher consciousness of the truth that one is all and all is one. It is through this chakra – the pineal gland as we know it in the west – that we are able to channel down enregy from the heavens and into our consciousness. Interesting too is the appearance of the gland at precisely forty nine days in developing fetuses. This period coincides precisely with the 49 days that Tibetan buddhists believe to be the time it takes for the soul to leave one body and reincarnate into another into the next body. Coincidentally, it has been said by some Christians (notably St. Augustine) that it takes 40 days for the soul to enter into the fetus. Scientific research into this appearance has also shown that at 49 days when the gland appears there is also a discharge of melatonin which serves to regulate the developing functions of the growing fetus. Still further, the Egyptians would remove the brain of their pharohs with the belief that by disconnecting their spirit from the carnate world they would automatically transcend into the heavens to become Gods. If the brain and most importantly the pineal gland, remained then they would continue the cycle of reincarnation from one body to the next.
Most recently there have been attempts to reconcile both the metaphysical and scientific functions of the pineal gland. Dr. Rick Strassman performed extensive government funded research on the pineal gland in the 1990’s and he speculates that it may be able to produce a powerful psychedelic known as DMT. DMT (N-N dimethyltriptamine, 5-MeO-DMT) is a plant based alkaloid which is nearly identical in chemical structure to Melatonin (N-acetyl-5-methoxytryptamine). DMT has been discovered naturally in humans, particularly in the lungs, but also in the brain. Strassman pointed out that the pineal gland is more capable than any other tissue in the human body to synthesize DMT from its precursor melatonin, it apparently possesses the prerequisite biochemical structure and transforming enzymes that would make this possible. To date there is no further research into why or how the body can produce DMT without exogenous plant based stimuli. His work is so far inconclusive and we do not know yet that the pineal gland can actually produce DMT.
However, his work is groundbreaking in that it opens the door for more research into the area of the Pineal Gland and it’s relationship to the divine or the location where the soul is physically manifested . His hypothesis serves as a starting point for further investigation – through his work he speculated that DMT is produced at critical or very stressful moments such as the near death experience, death itself, birth, intense mystical experiences, etc. The pineal gland is well protected due to its location but it can be overridden in these stressful moments and thus possibly be provoked to produce the DMT according to his argument. He lays a specfic biological foundation for the possibility that the pineal gland is the very location where the DMT is synthesizd naturally. In his book The Spirit Molecule, Strassman says, “The similarities between naturally occurring and DMT-induced phenomena support my suggestion that spontaneously occurring ‘psychedelic’ experiences are mediated by elevated levels of endogenous DMT.” This begs to be studied further.

What is known and lends itself to Strassman’s hypothesis, is that when DMT does occur naturally in the body, it is quickly broken down by enzymes which keep it in check. These enzymatic functions degrade as life nears an end or reaches critical stress levels and this could very well rigger a significant rise in the levels of DMT being produced by the body to equal those experienced in ritualistic use of the same compound as an externally induced psychedelic.

DMT is the prinicpal psychoactive compound taken in many native American brews and snuffs. It has been used for thousands of years in spiritual ceremonies and healing processes by many tribes in South America, most notably the brew called Ayahuasca which is comprised of two essential components, the DMT and a monoamine oxidase inhibitor (any of various beta carboline containing plants used in the brew) which prevents the DMT from being immediately broken down and metabolized. These concoctions are beleived to be the vehicle to direct communication with the divine whence the shamans or curanderos are able to recieve hidden wisdom and insights that can be used to heal or give guidance in spiritual matters. The relationship to the psychedelic effects of plant based DMT consumption and those witnessed by people who have had near death experiences are strikingly similar and it is very typical for users to walk away with a hightened awareness of spirituality and connectedness with the divine.

We now have a basis to begin to explain how the known and speculative attributes of the pineal gland may influence the physiology of the spirit as well as other biological functions. In part two of this series I’ll begin to oultine the various effects that a dysfunctional pineal gland has on both of these and how this dysfunction occurs.

Stay tuned for Part 2 – Calcification of The Pineal Gland and Its Effects on Divine Consciousness...

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Before me
pose voids of muted forget.
Desire is pulled down. Under,
a falling memory fades
and my soul crosses over
a deceptive ocean of change.
While I step beyond, distance
passes behind my eyes, finally
lonliness is defied
in the liquid dream.

Red, radiating speckles
synthesize the summer’s breeze
and my third eye awakens
from the calcified dream.
The blue screams drown, idle
in the fate of a vain ethereal tide.
I fall to my knees, paled,
spiraling downward , into
a channled substrate
of divine conscience.

My nakedness
confronts the illusion, inward
facing my soul’s window
and I stand to witness
with three blued eyes,
the waning current’s demise.
Around me, a blind energy
of subtle regret
within the decaying confinement,
forces my gaze upward.

Above me, an infinite sky
raining down a mist
of crystalline truth,
cleansing my will
of its hallucinating love affair.
Autumn’s endless ride
carries me over
shapeless highways in my distant mind,
delivering me once again
to where the chemical tale began.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

I walked alone twenty one and a half steps without a glance back into the musty darkened room full of ticking time and dulled jewels.Drawn blinds shroud the light outside of the shelter -and in my view a slow growing white crack divides the broken window. The shatter rings on and on inside of a rusted tin can...Next to me, weaping dreams take over the static river’s conscienceI can’t swim. This invisible regretof strange, cool, shimmering liquids flooding my waning winterWeighting down my clever desguise -I fall deeper inside the rusted tin can’s echoing lonesome.A child’s cry persistsdraping my forgotten consciousnessand I pry myself out from underneath the weathered stone.Shakes and rattles resound andthe tin can is set freeI roll with it down a frost heaved plank, into a bright silent moment underneathreflections of a misplaced innocenceIn a child’s shining smileA silent melody dances to the tune of the tin can’s blues

About The Author

Born into a Pentecostal brethren.
Professional hitchiker at 16. Inspired by Jack Kerouac to know.
Tasted Hoffman and Huxley.
Ate McKenna.
Trained in Architecture.
Several years lost in the fold.
Reawakened by mortality.
Enlightened by birth.
The Journey begins.
A seed is planted.
The book begins to grow.
The spirit opens.
The journey takes shape.
More seeds are sown.
Feasting begins.
And at 39 a story unfolds...